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I forced a smile, feeling terrible because to me he’d only ever be a guy who wasn’t Noah.
Someone jostled me from behind. I would’ve fallen, except for the guy/Henry/Not Noah, caught me. I fell against him, and his arms went around me lightly, holding me steady.
For the first time in a long time, I had the feel of a man’s body against mine, his touch, his scent, the pounding of a heart inside his chest…
Wrong, my heart cried.This is all wrong.
And suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. I pushed away from Henry and blindly staggered toward a back exit. I stumbled into a back alley, sucking in deep breaths, tears streaming down my face.
“Hey, are you all right?” Henry asked, joining me. His hand rested lightly on my back.
I shied away from his touch. “Don’t! No, I’m…sorry. I’m fine and I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “What do you need? Some water? I can go—”
Annalie busted through the back door. I was grateful for Henry’s sake she didn’t have her crowbar.
“What is this?” she asked, her eyes blazing daggers at the poor guy.
He held up his hand. “I don’t know. She was fine, and then she wasn’t. I just wanted to make sure she’s okay.”
Hunched over, my hands on my knees, I shook my head. “He didn’t do anything wrong. It’s me. It’s just me and…I need to go home.” But home—New York and Noah—seemed so far away. “I need to go to the hotel.”
Annalie took me by the shoulders. “Let’s go.”
Back at the hotel, Annalie walked me to our room.
“Dammit,” she cursed, glancing around. “There’s no water. I’m going to get water. Don’t move.”
“No problem,” I said and face-planted on the bed. Instantly, I fell into a murky, restless sleep and dreamed of Noah.
I dreamed that he stood at the top of a high, rocky cliff. Below, an ocean churned blue waters, capped in white. Jagged rocks, like teeth, jutted from the surface, waiting to eat him alive.
I tried to scream at him to get back, but my voice had no sound. And there were others around him. Joking and laughing. Egging him on. Jonesy and Polly and that horrible Deacon.
I screamed again to stop, but it was too late. Noah began to jump, and instantly, the cliff morphed into a high-rise building in Amsterdam. I watched helplessly as he dove headfirst to the concrete below.
No!
I woke with a gasp and a pounding headache. I was damp with sweat, making my clothes from the night before stick to my skin. The room was empty, Annalie taking her usual early morning walk. I grabbed my phone and jabbed numbers.
“Hello, Charlotte?” Lucien answered. “Are you—”
“Where is he? Is he okay?” I demanded. “You have to tell me something. Anything.”
“Oh, my sweet girl, I’m so sorry. He’s fine, I assure you,” he added quickly, “but—”
“But what?”
“I have sworn to keep silent on Noah’s whereabouts. He is adamant about doing this on his own. To accommodate being a blind man in this world. No matter what it takes. He will push himself to the brink. I’m sure of it.
“I don’t want him at the brink,” I cried. “I just want him. I don’t care if he’s still struggling, I want to be there—”
“I understand, my child. But you know him. He is stubborn, and he is going to see this thing to the end.”
“What thing? What is he doing? Why won’t he talk to me?”
“He can’t,” Lucien said gravely.
